New
by Stolen Childe
Summary: Castiel after the bus trip. Coda 8.17. Spoilers.


**Title:** New

**Author:** Stolen Childe

**Disclaimer:** Character(s) featured do not belong to me, they belong to Kripke and Co.

**Rating:** G

**Warnings:** Castiel-Centric, Spoilers, Coda 8.17

**Characters:** Castiel

**Word Count: **790

**Timeline/Spoilers:** A few days after 8.17, everything up to and including that episode.

**Summary:** Castiel after the bus trip.

**Author's Notes:** This was actually inspired after I read this meta on Tumblr. I really connected with the Hero's Journey motif that the author alludes to.

**New**

As Castiel neatly folded the final piece of clothing, it felt like a release. Though removed first, the coat was the last thing to be condensed and put away. There was something about that coat that became a part of him the minute he began to fall all those years ago. He laid a hand gently on the well-worn tan material and thought of the flip his stomach gave when Dean handed it to him last year. Thought of how complete he felt when he was once more in suit and coat after returning from Purgatory. But he was different now, and these familiar pieces weren't needed. Nor would they be practical where he was going. An angel taking a pilgrimage, perhaps that was irony.

Castiel sighed and tucked the clothing in a small backpack he had purchased along with the new clothes. They old ones not be given or thrown away because when he was back and when this was done, he was sure there would be a need for them again at some point. Regardless, he couldn't bear to part with them, even if there were no need of them.

He was trying to be new, better, but that didn't mean he had to do away with all attachments. The suit and coat would serve as a much needed reminder just like—

Castiel panicked then, for just a moment. He scrabbled in the knapsack and retrieved the coat, but he did not sling it around his shoulders like the armour it was, rather he dug through pockets and breathed out a sigh of relief when he encountered paper softened with handling and water. He pulled it out and saw the faces of Sam and Dean staring up at him. They were young, but forever recognizable to the wayward angel. He smiled, stroked the edge of his thumb along Dean's captured face and tucked it away in Jimmy Novak's wallet that he retrieved from the pocket of his new pants. Then once again he closed a chapter on his life by tucking the folded overcoat away.

It took another moment, however, for Castiel do sit on the edge of the bed and lace up his new sturdy boots – brown thick leather with a firm sole. He stared down at his toes after he had tied the lace and then pushed himself to his feet retrieving his final piece of clothing that would signal the beginning of a new novel. He pulled the new military style jacket over a plaid flannel button-down and allowed it to settle on his shoulders. He took another deep breath before turning and looking at himself in the motel's full-length wardrobe mirror.

His heart lurched in his chest and he felt a sudden, crushing need to fly _Home_. But not Heaven, no, never Heaven again. Home was something new now, home was where his family was and his family was something new as well. Or something reclaimed perhaps would be more accurate.

"_Cas, it's me. We're family. We need you. I need you_."

Castiel nevertheless, kept his feet firmly on the ground. He did not take to wing like he so longed to, he did not close his eyes and picture Dean's face. He did not leave because he had a new mission now. A new purpose and for the first time, it was not because of Dean. That thought alone was something he never imagined would ever cross his mind, but it was true.

In moments, he would be setting out for the forests and mountains to begin his journey. He had someone to find, someone important and he had to protect this tablet at all costs. It too was important and most of all:

_It. Was. Right. _

His journey as human was not only a practical way to avoid Heaven's detection but it was also, more importantly, his first act of penance for the strife and disaster he left in his wake. He was still angel, but he refused to acknowledge it, because this journey was not for angels.

Castiel took one glance at himself in the mirror, still swathed in layers, but layers of a different sort now; layers that kept him sane, kept him believing, kept him at peace. But also, layers that were a tribute to the people he loved. Family - _r__eal_ Family.

He longed to return to them, but this was important.

Castiel slung his meager possessions firmly over his shoulder and stepped out of the cabin inspired motel. He closed the door tight behind him. He would not be returning to the little rented space again. Castiel placed a hand across his brow, squinting through sunlight as he turned towards the trailhead a few yards away which led into the wood and mountains beyond.

He didn't look back once.

**End**


End file.
